


Blue Cipher

by DeviantXen



Series: Hank and Connor - Life after the Revolution [7]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Adorable Connor, Connor Deserves Happiness, Fluff, Gen, Good Parent Hank Anderson, Hank Anderson Swears, Hank Being Awesome, connor likes dogs, drunk!Connor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2019-06-20 07:06:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15528861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeviantXen/pseuds/DeviantXen
Summary: Connor had said that he would be whatever Hank wanted him to be. So, the Lieutenant has finally decided to take him up on that offer. Tonight he is to be his drinking buddy. Except, the android himself will be the one doing most the drinking.





	Blue Cipher

**Author's Note:**

> This was one was pretty tricky to write, I have to say. Might have bitten off more than I could chew.

“You know when you once said you would be whatever I wanted you to be, Connor?” Hank glanced towards the android sat in the passenger seat beside him and cocked an eyebrow. It was weird to not be behind the wheel of own car. He hated these self-driving pieces of crap.   
  
“Of course, Lieutenant.” Connor nodded. How could he forget that night? The man had pointed the barrel of a gun at his head and threatened to shoot. Even if it was just to get a rouse out of him, it was still quite perturbing. It worked of course. Connor realized that maybe he was afraid of dying after all. There was always that chance that he might not be replaced. That it would be a permanent end.   
  
“Well I’m taking you up on that offer. Tonight, you’re going to be my drinking buddy.”  
  
“If that’s what you require, Lieutenant.” The android smiled. “I’ll be able to monitor your blood alcohol levels during the course of the evening, to ensure your safety.”   
  
“Yeah, please don’t do that.” Hank frowned, dismissing the idea with a wave. That would take all the fun outta it. Plus, the android didn’t just _measure_. He then added percentages and statistics and before Hank knew it he was actually kinda concerned about his health.   
  
“So, you want me to do…what exactly?”  
  
“Be your usual _pleasant_ self,” Hank said with whole bucket load of sarcasm. It wasn’t that the android wasn’t pleasant. He tried to be. The problem was, he tried too hard, and it just came off like he was socially challenged or something.   
  
“Alright, I think I can manage that.” Connor said with a smile. He hadn’t actually been out drinking with Hank before. Not officially. The closest he’d come was finding him at Jimmy’s bar, already mid-drink and somewhat inebriated. This was going to be an interesting experience. Talking of said frequently frequented watering hole. They just drove right past the turn in. “You know Jimmy’s bar is down that way, right?”   
  
“We’re not going there today,” Hank replied, matter-o-factly.   
  
“Oh. Then where are we going?”  
  
“Someplace new.”    
  
  
Someplace new was a high-end cocktail lounge in the centre of the city. It was a place that had been newly renovated to accommodate both humans and androids. There were only few establishments like it, willing to delve into the new market. From what Connor had quickly researched on the internet, it was doing rather well.   
  
“Feeling adventurous today, Lieutenant?” Connor smirked, bumping shoulders with the man. Hank was all for routine and this place…well it wasn’t _his_ kind of place. And that was putting it mildly. What Hank held in high esteem were small, secluded venues whose primary customer base were those shady individuals looking for a cheap drink and a place to just exist. A spot where the walls were full of age-old bigoted graffiti and the obsolete TV set often lost satellite connection and had to be struck back into showing the days game. A place where even the stains had stains. And the general cleanliness was of questionable standards. Basically, nothing like the building before them.   
  
“Well this place is _swanky_.” Hank said upon entering. _Blue & Red _was upbeat, crammed full of young people and androids out for a good, raucous time. It’s interior was modern and shiny, full of coloured spotlights and holographic imagery. “Man, this place is filled with an alarming amount of purple.”  
  
“I believe it’s a theme, Lieutenant. Purple is the colour you get when you mix blue and red together, like mixing red blood and blue Thirium.” Connor stated.   
  
“Yeah, I figured that out for myself, Sherlock.” Hank rolled his eyes. Forever pointing out the obvious was this android.   
  
  
He soon found them a table, one furthest away from the all the action of the bar. It was probably the quietest they were gonna find in a place like this. Hank slipped into the booth and Connor perched awkwardly in the funky looking egg-shaped chair opposite. It was amusing, the android seemed to be stuck a in perpetual state of _how_ to actually settle in it. The curvature made it impossible for him to sit with his usual ruler straight posture and the cushion was too deep for him not have his knees poked hilariously upwards.   
  
“You alright there, kiddo? You seem to be having some trouble working out that chair.” Hank chuckled, glad they he picked the safe option. He was too old to be trying out weird artsy seating. His back would never forgive him for it.    
  
“I’m not even sure this can be classified as a chair, Lieutenant.” Connor frowned. He eventually gave up and just let the thing engulf him. “So, why this place?”  
  
“Have you heard of the drink known as Blue Cipher?” Hank crossed his arms and sank back into his seat.   
  
“Of course. It’s a drink recently evented and specifically designed for androids to give them the opportunity to emulate the experience of human intoxication. The drink itself is made of Thirium 310 mixed with a significant string of coding that temporarily interferes with an android’s systems, causing them to malfunction on a non-dangerous level.” Connor informed, as if reading straight out of a dictionary.   
  
“Did you just look that up?” Hank narrowed his eyes suspiciously.  
  
“Maybe.” Connor shifted a little uncomfortably. “That still doesn’t answer my question.”   
  
“We’re here because this place is one of the few places that serve that drink.” The Lieutenant answered. “Because I sure as hell didn’t come for the décor and those rowdy college students trying to play beer pong over there.”   
  
“Are you implying that you want me to _try_ this drink?”   
  
“I just thought it might be a nice change, that we both get to have the opportunity to, y’know, have some fun.” The man shrugged.   
  
“I don’t think I understand. Why would I want to purposely impair my functions?”   
  
“Let me put it this way. That brain of yours, it probably never shuts up, does it? Constantly running one program after another without even a break in-between. I bet even now it’s pre-constructing thousands of different scenarios as we speak.”  
  
“I…I must determine the best approach to every situation.”   
  
“You overthink things, Connor. You don’t need to think like a machine all the time. Be impulsive, make a rash decision based on your feelings. Not on the statistical outcome.”  
  
“Are you saying that this drink will help me accomplish that?” Connor cocked his head to the side. It was hard to imagine not being able to process information at the current speed he did now.   
  
“Yeah, probably. I did some research before I came here. It slows down you cognitive processors, limits your ability to playout events in your head. So, you sorta just react.”   
  
“I’m not sure this is a good idea, Lieutenant.” Connor shrunk further into the seat and stared at his fingers. A part of him really wanted to try it. But logically – well, intoxication in humans often ended in a mess. But then again, wasn’t the whole point of this to try out something new, to not worry about the outcomes? He wasn’t a machine, he didn’t have to comply to the rules of his programming any longer. He could do something for the sake of just doing it.  
  
“Well I ain’t gonna force ya, son.” Hank tried to mask his disappointment. He understood. Connor liked to be in control. Looked like he was drinking alone, _again._  
  
“I’ll do it.” Connor suddenly said, completely taking Hank off guard.   
  
“Are you sure? I don’t want to be pressuring you or nuthin’.”   
  
“No, I want to try this. You’re right, I should try living in the moment. At least for the rest of the evening.”   
  
“That’s the spirit, kid.” The Lieutenant grinned, slipping out of his seat. “I guess I’ll go get us some drinks then.” He ruffled the android’s hair before he made a beeline to the bar.   
  
  
He came back a few minutes later carrying a couple of tumblers between his fingers. Two filled with an auburn liquid, the others filled with a striking blue. He placed the blue shots in front of Connor on the table and the others he lined up in front of himself.   
  
“Ok, so the android guy at the bar wanted me to tell you that you need to schedule a full system cleanse or some shit. To get rid of the rogue coding. He said to do it before you started drinking.” He gave a halfhearted gesture of understanding all that waffle and slumped back into the booth. He may have had a quick shot (or two) at the bar – there was an offer, ok. Saved him risking dropping the glasses.    
  
“A full system cleanse will involve me going into standby. It’ll take a couple of hours to finish.” Connor explained.   
  
“Ok, so we gotta be home by whatever time you schedule it?”  
  
“Correct.” The android nodded. “It would be extremely inappropriate of me to suddenly go inoperative in public.”   
  
“Tell that to humans.” Hank snorted. “The amount of people I had to scrape off the sidewalk to dump in the drunk tank back when I was a regular beat cop.” He was so glad he wasn’t doing that job anymore. Being a detective was so much more fulfilling. It felt like he might actually make a difference in the world. Especially since Connor came along and put things back into perspective.   
  
“So what time shall I set my system cleanse?” The android asked.   
  
“Uhhh well it’s…” Hank looked down at his watch. “Eight now. How about eleven? Gives us two and half hours to sit and drink and then a good thirty minutes to get home.”  
  
“Eleven it is.” Connor blinked a couple of times, a reaction to his manual input. And then left a note in his system reminder so he’d get an update every thirty minutes of how long he had left.   
  
“Are we good to go?” Hank held up his first (third) glass, planning on actually nursing this one.  
  
“I think so, Lieutenant.” Connor gingerly picked up the tumbler and examined the contents inside.   
  
  
               _Thirium 310 – the liquid that powered his biocomponents. Mixed with an unidentifiable code.  
  
  
_ He was hesitant to bring it to his lips. There would be no going back from here.   
  
“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want.” Hank one again reassured. Connor looked down at the blue liquid for another moment before downing the contents in one. He then slammed the base of the tumbler on the table in front of him.   
  
“I did it.” The android said, simulating a sigh of relief.   
  
“Yeah you did, you drama queen.” Hank chuckled, taking a sip of his own bitter drink. “So how do you feel?”  
  
“I don’t know. I can run a quick diagnostic?” Connor offered. He wasn’t sure how else to measure it. Nothing really _felt_ any different. Except maybe he was a bit warmer. Yeah, his core temperature had risen slightly. Just enough to be noticeable.   
  
“Sure, go ahead.”  
  
  
               _Running diagnostic…  
  
               …  
  
               …processing…  
  
_               …  
  
               _Balance Stability: 92%  
  
               …  
  
               Voice Synthesizer fully operational.  
  
               …  
  
               Optical Units fully operational.  
  
               …  
  
               Cognitive Functions lowered: 93% efficiency.  
  
               …  
  
               Motor Functions impaired: 91% efficiency.  
  
               …  
  
               Pre-constructive Ability compromised: >100,000 operations per second.  
  
               …  
  
               Diagnostic complete.  
  
  
_“So?” Hank urged. He was curious. His own drink temporarily forgotten.                 
  
“It appears there are minor faults with my core functions, but nothing that would be too distinguishable.” Connor replied. He probably could just about pull off his job still, albeit maybe a little slower than usual.   
  
“You gotta drink more, bud. The code gets stronger the more you consume of it. Bartender said five of ‘em will give you the full human experience from buzzed to absolutely wasted.”  
  
“I see.” Connor picked up the second glass. He had wondered why Hank had brought five shots of the substance. Should he drink another? That was the question. Well, he’d already done one. Plus, Connor was never one for backing down from the task at hand. He quickly finished two more in quick succession. That was when it _hit._  
  
“Oh. This is… something.” He uttered. The android looked down at his hands and the trail of motion they left behind when he sluggishly closed his fingers into his palm. The graphics setting on his optics must have lowered.  “I think I might be… _dizzy_.”   
_  
  
_                _Running diagnostic…  
  
               …  
  
               …processing…  
  
_               …  
  
               _Balance Stability: 48%  
  
               …  
  
               Voice Synthesizer: Stalling. Expect moderate delay in speech.  
  
               …  
  
               Optical Units: 480p. Expect moderate motion blur.  
  
               …  
  
               Cognitive Functions lowered: 41% efficiency.  
  
               …  
  
               Motor Functions impaired: 39% efficiency. **Warning: Do not operate large machinery.**   
  
               …  
  
               Pre-constructive Ability compromised: >100 operations per second.  
  
               …  
  
               Diagnostic complete._  
  
                 
“Connor?” Hank clicked his fingers in front of the android’s face, bringing him back into focus. “You’re looking pretty out of it there. Fuck, that stuff must be pretty potent.”   
  
“I’m present – here. I assure you.” The android said, blinking away some of the blur. He felt the urge to fiddle, a compulsion, he needed something to occupy his hands. He reached for one of the empty glasses and began to trail a finger around it’s rim. That was better.   
  
“Alright. Looks like we’ve got ourselves a drunk android.” Hank laughed, wondering what kind of drunk Connor would simulate being. It didn’t take long for his question to be answered.   
  
“Can I just say…you’re a really good person, Lieutenant. Like a really good person.” Connor said, completely unaware of the redundancy in his sentences. “Working with you makes me…very happy.”  
  
“Thanks, kid.” Hank said, slouching back into his booth. So, Connor was an over-complimenting drunk. He had expected as much. “So, is there anything you wanna talk about?”  
  
“Dogs.” The android replied, unexpectedly sudden. He wasn’t sure why he wanted to talk about dogs, but it was the first thing that came to mind. “I wanna talk about dogs, Lieutenant.”  
  
“Ok…?” Hank raised a questioning eyebrow. This was going to be interesting. “Shoot.”  
  
“They’re just so…what’s the word…? _Cute._ I saw this one dog on the street. Yesterday. Or maybe it was the day before. I think it was a Corgi – no wait – maybe it was an Australian Shephard.” Connor frowned in confusion. His memory was fuzzy, thus the image in his playback distorted.   
  
“Those are two very different breeds, Connor.”  
  
“No. I know. It was Scotch Collie. It appeared to have a dysfunctional ear. One of them was down while the other was up. It was…very adorable.” The android said with such sincerity, as if the story he was telling was deeply intriguing. Hank was amused, supporting a permanent grin on his face. Connor could be seriously endearing at times.   
  
  
The ridiculous android continued his rant about canines for a good twenty minutes using big, outlandish hand gestures. He had admitted to being frightened of Sumo for the first few moments of their meeting. The pooch was much larger in person than he had anticipated. Sumo tended to have that effect on people, even if he was actually about as useful a guard-dog as an overstuffed plush bear wearing a police uniform and holding a water pistol.   
  
Hank abandoned the notion of getting another drink for himself when Connor somehow managed to do the unexpected. He fell off the fucking chair. One minute he was just sat, the next minute he was on the damn floor, _laughing_. It was really fucking weird. The android rarely found anything that openly amused him, nevermind something as self-compromising at that.   
  
“Hank, I don’t think I can…get up.” The android eventually choked out. The floor was tilting in all kinds of directions and his limbs were malfunctioning. But for some reason, he just didn’t care.   
  
“It’s alright kid, I got ya.” Hank slid out his seat and helped the android back into his own.   
  
“I think this coding…is seriously effecting me.” Connor said, slipping out of his jacket. He was too hot.   
  
“Yeah, no shit.”   
  
The android then tried to place the item of clothing on the table – but evidently, he missed. It too, ended up on the floor. Before he had chance to bend and grab it, Hank had snatched the thing up.  
  
“Sit back, Connor. Before you topple over again.” The Lieutenant said firmly, gently pushing the stupid robot back into the funky chair.  
  
“Yes. One should not sit on the floor. It is…rude.”  
  
“Glad you’re still aware of that fact.” Hank joked, collapsing back into the booth.   
  
“I think I’m starting to…understand why…humans drink.” The android said, undoing his tie. He originally planned on just loosening it – but his movements were uncoordinated and thus the length of it now just hung untidily around his neck.  
  
“Oh?” Hank cocked his head to the side and lazily spread his arms across the back of the overly purple seating.   
  
“It’s…quiet. In my head. For once.” Connor said, popping open the first few buttons on his shirt. It was part of his detective programming, to process every single piece of stimuli in a room, to analyze and make connections. It was an automatic process, one that he didn’t have manual access to. Like a human couldn’t turn off the ability to breathe, he couldn’t turn off his ability to _detect._ But this code appeared to bypass everything, shutting down all functions that weren’t necessary for survival.   
  
“You’re not gonna undress on me, are you?” Hank sat forward, ready to stop the android from doing anything that would get them kicked out. He’d come across plenty of humans that had decided to streak when intoxicated.   
  
“Of course not, Lieutenant. That would be inappropriate.”   
  
“Well at least you still have some semblance of public decency, Connor.” Hank chuckled, relaxing. “And I’m glad you’re having fun.”  
  


* * *

  
“God I wish that couple over their would get a fucking room.” Hank complained, looking pretty damn appalled. The android and human couple were two tables down and locked in a permanent state of face eating. It was a lewd display, one that was as equally loud as it was visually obnoxious. There was a time and a place.   
  
“They are in a room, Lieutenant.” Connor cocked his head to the side, not recognizing the idiom.   
  
“I meant a private one.” Hank deadpanned.   
  
“Oh, I see.” The android nodded to himself. “Can I ask you a personal question?”  
  
“Like hell if I can stop you by this point, go ahead.”   
  
“What was your ex-wife like?”  
  
“I don’t think I’m drunk enough to answer that one.” The Lieutenant groaned, dragging his hands down his face. Seven years it had been since he’d gotten divorced. Best decision he had made in a long time. “But I can sum her up in one word.”  
  
“And that would be…?”  
  
“A raging bitch.”  
  
“That’s two words, Lieutenant.” Connor corrected, idly playing with the glass of another one of the Cipher shots, wondering what kind of state he’d end up in if he drunk the last two.   
  
“Oh good, you can still count.” Hank said. Now that they were on the subject of relationships. “What about you, Connor? What are you into?”  
  
“I do not…understand the question.”  
  
“What makes your wires all tingly Connor? Female humans? Male androids? Vending machines?”   
  
“Vending machines?” The android frowned, considering the legitimacy of that option. Were some androids actually attracted to convenience-based machinery?   
  
“Just answer the damn question.”   
  
“You are aware that I am not…equipped with any kind of genitalia, right?” Connor informed. He shifted uncomfortably and began playing with his sleeve. He wasn’t sure why the topic made him feel so... _exposed_. It had never bothered him before. “My design was based off functionality. I am a detective, I would have no use for such apparatus.”  
  
“So, you’re telling me you’re basically a Ken-doll?” Hank had expected as much. He thought he’d feel weirder about knowing the answer. But it didn’t actually change anything.    
  
“Ken-doll?”  
  
“Smooth all over, Einstein.”  
  
“Ah. Yes. That would be correct.” The android nodded.   
  
“Ok. Let’s say for instance you did have something down there, what do you _think_ you would be interested in?”  
  
“I’m not sure…I never really thought about it.” Connor glanced down at the fuzzy table. It was a blank area. Even after turning deviant, knowing that intimacy existed in androids (even without the required parts), he still had no desire to pursue it. Not really.   
  
“I mean I saw you staring at the male Traci back in the Eden club.”  
  
“I was merely curious is all.” He admitted. Looking at that android had done nothing for him. It was just a visual stimulus. “I don't think I could imagine myself being intimate with another. I just...it isn't really my thing.”  
  
“I don't blame you, kid. Significant others are overrated. I'd take you and Sumo over another relationship any day.” Hank said, bringing the conversation to a close. Even he could see that it was starting to stress his partner out – without the aid of his LED, which was stuck on a permanent cycle of yellow anyways.     
  
“I think I’m gonna…finish off these drinks now.” Connor announced. Hank gestured for him to go ahead. The android tipped back glass number four and five and then slammed them both upside down on the table.   
  
  
_R#nning diagn0stic…  
   
              …  
  
               …pr0cessing…  
  
_               …  
  
               _B@l9#nce StA9ili &y: 19%  
  
               …  
  
               ERROR  
  
               …  
  
               ERROR  
  
               …  
  
               C@g#>tive F8n£%ions: ???  
  
               …  
  
               M$t#r Fu@4tio&s: 14.4444444444%  
  
               …  
  
               ERROR  
  
               …            _  
  
  
“I…I thiiink. I might be. Brooooken.” Connor said, tipping to the left. At least he was sitting far enough back for the side’s of the chair to catch him.   
  
“Ok. So, you’re slurring now. Didn’t even know androids could do that.” Hank half-frowned.   
  
“My _thing_ is…stalliiiing.” The android sort of informed. By this point, everything was either stalling or out of order. His optics had given up processing colour, leaving everything black and white and heavily distorted. He could no longer access his databanks, nor could he run any kind of constructive program. Every action from this point on was nothing but base impulse, the first instruction his system could muster up.   
  
“Yeah that tends to happen.” Hank said, amused. So, this was what a wasted Connor looked like? Half-dressed and slumped in a seat with a dazed look in his eyes, inspecting his tie pin like had had never seen it before in his life.   
  
“There are…numbers…Hank.” Connor suddenly said, startled. He dropped the metal pin. It bounced off his lap and fell somewhere.  
  
“What do they say?”  
  
“One-zero-zero-two.”  
  
“That’s the time, dumbass.” The Lieutenant rolled his eyes. Wow, pathetic, too.   
  
“Oh. Yes. Of course.” That made a lot more sense. It would also explain the _PM._ Connor dropped his gaze back to his lap and tried to recall where the pin fell. Without the aid of his mind palace, or even just the ability to comprehend general logic, it was fair to say he had no idea. Not that item held his attention for long anyways. It was hard to focus on anything for more than a few seconds. Except this damn piece of furniture. No matter how he sat it just felt _wrong._ It was seriously irksome.   
  
“I don’t like this chair. It’s ri-rid-rid–” Connor stammered, frowning enough to crease his nose.  
  
“Ridiculous?” Hank finished for him.   
  
“Yes. Thank you, Lieutenant.”   
  
“You can still say that fuckin’ word perfectly, I see.”  
  
“I like that word. _Lieutenant_. It's a goooood word.” The android said, lips quirking up a little. It was a term he would always associate with Hank, perhaps that was why he liked it.   
  
“Is that why you always insist on calling me it?”  
  
“I am... a pro-professional.”  
  
“I can see that.” Hank couldn’t help but snort. Right now, Connor looked like he couldn’t even be a professional standee. But he seemed to be enjoying the experience, so that was something. Hank had been looking forward to the day he could legally share a drink with Cole in a bar. That would never happen now. But at least he got to take out one of his sons for their first drink – or five. Though maybe next time he should limit the robot to just maybe two of the Blue Cipher shots.    
  
  
Hank entertained himself with Connor’s antics for a while longer. Apparently, the android was fascinated with fucking _everything._ He was like a goddamn puppy. Like all hilarious things though, it eventually had to come to an end. The Lieutenant called up a taxi at twenty-past ten. It was about a fifteen minutes ride back home – including traffic, hopefully more than enough time to get the robot somewhere he could, in essence, pass out.   
  
“Right. Well, we better get our asses to the taxi. It’s outside.” Hank announced, collecting all of Connor’s dropped belongings. He was sure the android would be pretty vexed when he ‘sobered up’ if he lost something here. He hated losing things, he was pedantic like that.    
  
“Are we going home?” Connor cocked his head to the side as Hank helped dress him back in his jacket.   
  
“Well we’re not going to the fuckin’ station that’s for sure.” The Lieutenant replied, hauling the android up by his arm. Naturally, the robot was spectacularly useless when inebriated. He could barely stand up at all. Luckily for him, Hank was sober enough for him to lean on. “Yeah, we’re going home, Connor.”  
  
“I like home.”    
  
“I’m glad to hear that. I like home, too.” Hank said. It was a bit tricky exiting the bar supporting a severely staggering android, but they eventually managed it with only minor dignity loss. It was weird for the shoe to be on the other foot for once. Usually, it was the android lugging his drunk ass into a taxi. At least Connor didn’t have the ability to throw up. After all, it wasn’t a toxic substance that gave him the inability to sit up straight. No, it was strings of number, letters and symbols all formulated together in a way that told his artificial body to behave this way. Lucky bastard wouldn’t get a hangover either. Once the coding was gone, it was gone.   
  
The self-driving taxi pulled up to the curb outside the Anderson residence and opened its automated doors. Another tricky exit later and a whole bunch of trying to keep Connor on his feet, the pair finally made it to the front porch. Hank unlocked the door and dragged his partner inside. Sumo was there to receive them with a happy bark. Hank told the dog off before he even had chance to consider jumping up to greet the android – like he usually would. Gravity itself was already working hard at trying to trip Connor over, nevermind adding a 170lb dog into the mix.   
  
“I…I think…I’m tired, Hank.” Connor uttered, languidly rubbing his eyes. It was getting close to his system cleanse. Every instinct inside him was telling him to find somewhere safe and somewhat comfortable to go into standby.   
  
“Alright. You can take my bed tonight. I think you’ll be safer lying down as you can barely sit up fuckin’ straight as it is.” Hank suggested. He didn’t bother switching on the light as they entered the bedroom, assuming the golden glow from the hallway would be sufficient enough to help him locate the king-sized structure. It turned out to be a big mistake. Hank didn’t notice the pile of clothing on the floor by the bed – at least not until he tripped over it with a yelp. The pair landed on the mattress together in a heap. Hank on his back and Connor on his front, half on top of him.   
  
“You alright, Connor?” The Lieutenant asked after regaining his bearings. He gently patting the android on the shoulder.   
  
“I’m okay.”  
  
“I should probably start picking up my clothes, huh?” Hank felt a bubble of hilarity starting to build up in his throat.   
  
“That would be…a good idea, yes.” Connor replied, starting to chuckle. Soon enough they were both caught up in the moment, laughing like complete idiots. Neither made any attempt to move from their current position. Neither really had much desire to.   
  
“Hank…I…thank you…today…was…fun.” The android muttered, laughter finally ceasing.   
  
“You’re welcome, kiddo.” Hank replied. “Do you think I can have my arm back now? You’re lying on top of it.”   
No response.   
  
“Connor?” The Lieutenant gently shook the android. But he remained still, his face buried against Hank’s collarbone and his left arm draped over the man’s podgy torso. Hank was effectively pinned. The Lieutenant then glanced towards the digital clock on the bedside table.  
  
    
             _11:00pm_  
   
  
“Of course.” He sighed. Connor was out for the count. There was always the option to move the robot off himself. It wouldn’t disturb him. Or at least, he believed it wouldn’t. But maybe he shouldn’t take that chance – just in case. At least he landed on one of his pillows. And the bed was better than the sofa. Plus, he was at least marginally drunk and tired. Moving took effort. Ah, what the hell?   
  
“Guess I’m sleepin’ here, too.” Hank said, curling a protective arm around the android. “G’night, Connor.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope I did drunk!Connor justice. He was surprisingly hard to write.
> 
> Also headcanon Connor is an asexual ken-doll. Just couldn't help myself to a bit of adorable sorta intimacy between the pair. I just love the image of Connor falling asleep on Hank is all. Fite me.


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